


Hit it, hit it, hit it, hit it (ayy)

by 2dick2down



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Bottom Lance, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Homecoming, Hung Keith, M/M, Morning Sex, Needy Lance, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Canon, Rough Sex, Spanking, They love each other, Top Keith (Voltron), these boys are lewd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-18
Updated: 2018-08-18
Packaged: 2019-06-29 03:57:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15721494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2dick2down/pseuds/2dick2down
Summary: Keith's self-control was already a thin and reedy creature. He didn't try to fight his desire. It was no use this morning. He'd been without Lance for too long.





	Hit it, hit it, hit it, hit it (ayy)

Keith woke with his nose in Lance's unruly hair and a brown leg slung softly over his boxer-clad waist.

His body's waking instinct had once been urgency, alarm, the haste of beating the rising sun. Now, after years spent learning Lance, it was touch. Tender as crushed flowers. The familiarity of sharing a bed with a sluggish, slow-to-wake cuddler had become Keith's oasis. At some point during their relationship, Lance's morning laziness had rubbed off on him, too. 

It was Keith's next instinct, after touch.

His hand twitched. The worst was when it found only empty space where Lance was supposed to be, cool sheets and a hard cot in place of a warm body. Today was different. Today was a homecoming. A return to the familiar. 

One night beside Lance after a three week excursion with the Blade of Marmora didn't appear to have made Keith's hand any less uncertain. It was an easy emotion to bypass, though. Worry was ephemeral; Lance's body wasn't. Keith let himself give in to instinct and reached over. He felt disbelieving wonder travel up his arm as his fingers met flesh and blood. They traversed the soft curve of Lance's back. Lance, lying half on top of Keith. Lance, waiting for Keith.

After three weeks away from him, it felt treacherous.

Still recovering from a dream he could only recall tendrils of – sand on skin, the sun at its zenith, the crash of water – he skimmed his hand up Lance's back. He remembered arriving home last night, too exhausted for anything elaborate but desperate to get Lance out of his clothes. He'd torn at Lance's winter coat, his flannel, delirious with desperation, had only calmed after Lance stripped down to his underwear and climbed under the covers, plastered himself to Keith's side and made tiny shushing noises.

Keith had fallen asleep immediately, arms locked around Lance's small waist.

It was both better and worse this morning.

He couldn't stop touching Lance anymore than he could stop looking at him. He let himself spread his palm wide, fingers spanning the blades of Lance's back. Then he curled his fingers into a fist, nails digging gently into Lance's skin. Sometimes it frightened him, how breakable Lance was. How easily he gave himself up to Keith, like his trust was without end or limit. Keith skimmed a fond hand up the knobs of his spine, describing aimless patterns across his brown skin.

Sunlight came warm and gossamer through the window to their right. Lance was warmer – Keith's own source of heat, all gathered up in his arms. His sleeping face wasn't set at an angle conducive to staring so Keith fit two fingers under his chin and nudged his head up until he could get a good look. Lance's lashes were long and startling against his cheeks. His full mouth was parted on a sleepy breath. Keith could see the peek of his front teeth, could feel the soundless whistle of Lance's exhales against his chest. He was a delicate bundle beneath Keith's fingers, soft-skinned and pliant. Every line of his body described unconditional trust.

Every line of his body was begging to be touched.

Keith's self-control was already a thin and reedy creature. He didn't try to fight his desire. It was no use this morning. He'd been without Lance for too long. He brushed his thumb across Lance's lower lip, pulled down on it to expose the bottom row of Lance's teeth. Things he hadn't thought to savour before he left now felt calamitous up close. The crooked slant of Lance's left incisor. His cupid's bow. The intricate, light purple network of veins showing through his eyelids.

Keith left out a ragged breath and wanted to cry, just a little. From relief as well as terror.

Slowly, as though dragged into waking by his touch, Lance began to stir under Keith's fingers, his eyelashes flickering. They blinked open fully. His eyes, so breathtakingly blue, shot straight to Keith's face, with an alertness he found unfamiliar. Wide awake in seconds. So different from Lance's languid morning routine, the way he required at least ten minutes to pry his eyes open on any given morning.

The opposite was a little exhilarating. Having that gaze on him, morning-blue and free of sleep within seconds, made Keith's breath come quicker.

It was one thing to want someone. It was a whole other to know that person wanted you back. Was waiting for you in sleep, in fact, and had found you waiting for them in the waking world. 

Keith's stomach swooped, then wrung itself into a tight knot. It should have been strange, knowing Lance could look at him and make his palms go clammy, even now. But it had never made Keith feel powerless. It filled his veins with liquid warmth.

"Hey," he whispered, tracing his thumb down Lance's jaw.

Lance blinked several times more. "Hi," he whispered back, wide-eyed. "You're real."

Keith huffed a laugh. "Yeah, but are you? I’m thinking maybe I dreamt you up."

Lance made a face like he felt compelled to briefly entertain the idea. "I don't think I'm a dream," he said thoughtfully, which told Keith he was perhaps not as awake as Keith had originally guessed.

"I would disagree," Keith murmured. "You look just like mine."

Colour spilled across Lance's cheeks in a lovely blush. He buried his flustered face against the crook of Keith's throat and made a soft, embarrassed sound into the skin there. Keith could feel himself laughing before he registered that he was. He squeezed Lance's hips playfully to communicate his affection. 

"You're shameless," Lance muttered.

"And you're not?"

As if in answer, Lance tightened the leg he had hooked around Keith's waist and began to lazily rub off on his thigh like a sleepy, heat-seeking animal. A soft bulge slid against Keith's hip.

"I rest my case," Keith said, except Lance didn't stop or laugh to show Keith it was a joke, just continued his sensuous little dance.

In moments, he'd worked himself up to a quiet pant with his rocking hips and rapidly hardening cock. Keith's stupid, muddled brain finally realised his intentions. He felt his blood go white-hot, forced himself to catch and still Lance around the waist, trying his hardest to emanate reproach.

The nature of skin-to-skin contact with Lance was tenuous. He had a way of throwing Keith over the edge and into a wildly aroused state with only the help of his sweet little hips. Normally that was quite all right, but today they had a full schedule.

Tonight, though. Tonight, Keith was going to have Lance in every room of their house. Slowly and systematically.

"Lance ..." he said, in warning. "We shouldn't."

"Please," Lance begged, in his lilting whine.

Keith swallowed, dry throat working. He was having a hard time dredging up reasons to say no to Lance. If they were quick about it, maybe ...

Lance, scenting blood, covered Keith's callused hands with his own and guided them around, lower. Their tangled fingers slipped beneath Lance's tight boxers and over his pert, giving little ass. How Keith loved that ass, the way it bounced against his mouth, his cock, his sword-trained fingers.

"Haven't seen you in three weeks," Lance whispered, eyebrows pulled together in a plaintive little frown. "Want it so bad. Right now. Quick and dirty. Please?"

Keith could feel his resolve crumbling.

"Keith," Lance whined, eyes wide and imploring. Together, they spread Lance's cheeks. Keith felt like a marionette doll following his puppeteer's commands, frozen with indecision. "Don't you want to fuck me open? I'm so tight. I only used fingers while you were gone. None of my toys are as big as you. Wanted to wait for the real thing."

Jesus ...

"Fuck," Keith breathed.

He'd never been able to hold out for long under Lance's begging, least of all when that begging came accompanied by his tight, naked little body pressed up against Keith's. He was a weak man with a weaker heart. 

His world gave a vertiginous tilt. Then it narrowed to Lance, lying warm and golden in Keith's lap like war spoils. Keith made a sound, straight from the throat and stifled through his teeth, and gave Lance's sinful little ass a hard swat, relishing the resulting _smack!_  that sounded, loud and appalling in the quiet of their bedroom.

"Love your tight little ass," Keith whispered into Lance's hair. He took the cheeks in hand like he owned them, gave them a firm squeeze, groaning at the feeling of all that perky, jiggling flesh filling his palms. Inside his boxers, Keith's cock had begun to pulse.

Lance moaned against Keith's throat, arching his back with sinuous grace.

"Mm," Keith said, rumbling his approval. "All mine."

"Yeah," Lance whispered, pushing his ass back into the touch, thighs widening. _"Keith._ Touch me."

He knew what was being asked of him. Humming, Keith let one hand venture lower, teasing a path down the cleft of Lance's ass. His index finger circled the warm, whorled hole tucked away between Lance's cheeks. He wanted so much, too much. His head spun with the way he wanted: to spear Lance open on his tongue, wetting his tight ass up in preparation for his cock to the sound of Lance's quiet sobs. To push his overeager cock inside that private nook and have at that gorgeous ass all morning long, until it was loose and red-cheeked, splattered and dripping pearly white with his seed.

His cock jerked hard in his boxers, rising, responding enthusiastically to the images Keith had turned up. It strained against the seam of his boxers, tenting the fabric with its heavy weight.

"Right here?" he whispered, sly.

Lance whined at the touch like he couldn't get enough. "Yeah," he sighed dreamily.

"Like this ... ?" Keith whispered, pushing in slowly to the first knuckle.

Lance whined louder, nuzzling Keith's throat unhappily. "Too dry."

With a defeated groan, Keith rolled over onto his back and flung a hand out, smacking around for the lube they kept by the bedside. 

If his libido was bad, Lance's was worse. He liked to wake Keith in the middle of the night with his clamouring lust – ducked head tenting their blanket where he was sucking Keith's sleepy cock in the balmy dark. Sitting astride Keith's face, thighs spread, as Keith tongued him open, still sluggish with sleep. Panting harshly in Keith's ear as Keith opened him up nice and slow, kissing up and down Lance's throat. Lance whining, "Faster, baby, please," while Keith twisted his fingers ruthlessly, murmured, "You're gonna sit still and take what I give you or you're not gonna get anything at all."

That always had Lance's ass tightening gloriously around his fingers, mouth falling open to let loose a round of shameless moans for Keith.

Lance didn't waste even a moment this morning. He moved to straddle Keith's hips, thighs thrown open so they bracketed Keith on either side. Palms splayed over Keith's chest, Lance began to rut slowly, as though unable to help himself. His cock and ass rubbed back and forth over Keith's abs in a filthy grind. Halfway through, he shoved his boxers down to his knees like he found the fabric irksome, arched his back and let out a little breathy  _uhn uhn_ as he watched himself roll his hips against Keith. Precome smeared down Keith's stomach. It heaved under the feel of Lance's wet cock, his lush little ass.

"Lance," he warned, torn between two different objectives. His brain felt split, gaze flitting wildly between their cluttered bedside tabletop and his naked boyfriend.

Lance ignored Keith, fluttering his lashes and licking over his own palm. His hair was a burnished gleam beneath the light coming in through their window, lit like flame. The sun picked out smatterings of freckles over his shoulders, turned the lighter cowlicks and messy tufts of hair at his head near-blonde. The rest of him was a pure, dark gold, skin made radiant by the sunlight. Keith tracked the soft swell of his ass, cheeks plump against his abs, his hips slight and shapely. His lean stomach and lightly muscled arms. Curvy little thing, this one.

Fuck, but he was a vision like this.

Undulating his hips harder, Lance slid three fingers into his mouth. He sucked on them like a cock, cheeks hollowed. With his free hand, he reached behind himself to part the cheeks of his sweet ass. He was the spitting image of earthly eroticism.

Keith knew he looked a touch too fervent – too _avid_ – when he said, "Lance." 

"Oh, fuck ..." Lance mumbled, tossing his head back to show off the curve of his lovely throat as he reached backwards with his other hand, fingers wet.

Keith growled lowly, momentarily forgetting what he was meant to be finding. "Let me see."

Lance cried out, body jarred into an elegant arch. His arm moved frantically behind his back with tiny wet noises, the saliva-damp slide of his long fingers pushing inside his ass.

"Lance. Show me," Keith ordered, with dangerous authority.

Lance rolled over obediently, landing ass-up beside Keith on their bed. He braced his knees beneath himself, canted his hips up high and gave his plush little ass a greedy wriggle as though to tempt Keith closer. His thighs spread obscenely, erect cock dragging against their sheets. With spit-wet fingers, he rubbed over his twitching hole and let out another long, high moan. He shoved two digits in without warning and fucked his hips back against them, rocking his ass into the intrusion. 

He'd never looked so fucking filthy in his life – boxers tangled around his thighs, curved little ass presented to Keith.

"Fucking hell," Keith swore, finally locating the bottle of half-used lube and grabbing it up with a growl.

He climbed to his knees behind Lance and shoved his other hand into his own boxers, frantically removing his cock where it was resting rock-hard beneath the fabric. The elastic waistband caught beneath his heavy balls with a snap. He fondled them a moment, loving the spine-tingling feel, then gave his stiff, veiny cock a few languid pumps to the sight of Lance fingering his hot ass. Below him, Lance angled a heated look backwards, moaning feebly.

Keith's cock jolted into the tight circle of his fist, blurting out a smear of precome that he aimed at Lance's asshole. He rubbed his cockhead there with a wet smear. Lanced whined, hole convulsing as though desperate to swallow Keith's cock inside. It was maddening. Keith panted, heartbeat rocketing up.

"Fuck," he whispered, fisting his fat cock hard and hissing. "Look at you. So ... _ngh_ ... dirty for me."

"For you," Lance cried, flushed face squished against their sheets. His pink mouth hung open. "All for you, Keith."

"Yeah," Keith groaned, stroking his cock harder with loud, wet slaps. "Shit. _Ah._ Lance. Yeah."

"Yeah," Lance whined in echo, screwing his fingers in tight. His hips made furious up and down movements against his fingers, asscheeks jiggling.

Keith opened the bottle of lube with his teeth – one hand still working his own cock hard and dripping – and squeezed a generous amount from it. It drizzled down the crease of Lance's ass in a silky smooth drip, sliding past his crack, coating his balls, dripping messily onto their sheets. Lance's brown ass shone, wet and ready. He rubbed what he could into his hole with a pretty moan, fingers spreading the wetness around with little smacking sounds. 

Keith squeezed the base of his shaft, staving off a cock-pounding orgasm as he watched with a low grunt. Lance was a wet dream, eyes dark and low-lidded, his bangs stuck to his temples with sweat. The dip of his back was deep and devastating, ass cleaved open and stuffed full by his fingers. Keith's cock wanted nothing more than to slide home and fuck him into their mattress.

"That better?" Keith asked. His breath came in hard, staccato-quick huffs.

"Mhmm," Lance whimpered, fingers squelching between his round asscheeks.

"Jesus Christ," Keith cursed. "I could come across your back. Right fucking now."

"Nooo," Lance objected, voice whiny. "Inside me. Keith. Get inside me."

Keith brought a punishing palm down against Lance's ass with a loud _smack!_ The cheeks caught the slap with a reverberating bounce, flesh spanked pink. "What do you say?"

Lance cried out, moaning something soft and wanton. His brown ass was blooming a deeper, more undeniable red. The sight sent a druggy pulse of sensation to Keith's hard cock.

"Please," Lance whined. "Please come inside me. Want it wet. Mm, please ... _uh_ ... _ah_ ..."

"Better," Keith said approvingly.

He caressed Lance's ass in wordless praise, cupping the fleshy cheeks. His hand slid up Lance's curvy little hip as Keith palmed himself, thumbing his wet cockhead. He gathered up the moisture of his precome and spread it down his length through grit teeth.

Lance's mouth dropped open, eyes glazed over with pleasure.

"Add another finger for me."

He shoved a third finger in immediately, corkscrewing all three into his ass with a lewd moan. "Need it so bad," he babbled mindlessly, fingers moving inside of himself to their own fretful rhythm. "Haven't felt your cock in so long, Keith. Miss it. Was so empty while you were gone. Couldn't stop thinking about it. About your cock in me. Stretching me open again ... _huh._ I came dreaming about it."

"God, shit," Keith hissed, slapping Lance's beautiful little ass a second time.

Lance cried out, weight jostled some. He bit down on his bottom lip, eyes squeezing shut.

"You like that?" Keith murmured. "You like having your hot little ass spanked? Huh?" 

"Yes," Lance keened. "Baby. Mmm."

Keith let go of his tingling cock and watched it rear up, slapping against his belly. He used his newly freed hands to squeeze Lance's round asscheeks, prying them open. His thumbs circled Lance's glistening little hole. For just a moment, he let himself rub one of them against the edge of Lance's slick rim, reveling in Lance's whimper. Then he lifted his hand and brought it down against Lance's cheek again, watching the reddening skin jiggle, playing hungrily with it. 

"Ohh _,"_ Lance groaned, fingering himself harder.

Keith traced a finger around Lance's fluttering opening, leaning over to spit down his ass. He pushed the glob of saliva inside of Lance with his thumbs, edging in around Lance's three fingers and smiling to himself as a hiss of discomfort hit the air. His brown fingers stilled inside of himself.

"Don't stop on my account," Keith said, teasing.

"Fuck you," Lance gasped. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. _Ah!_ Fuck me. Please, please, please."

Keith shuffled forward obligingly on his knees and removed Lance's hand from his ass. He spread his arms out, flat and outstretched, until Lance was lying like a cat, his ass level with Keith's greedy cock. Warm arousal pooled in his belly as he gripped his flushed cock and passed a wet palm over it, covering it with leftover lube.

Carefully, he slid it between Lance's asscheeks, squeezing them together to create a tight little alcove for his cock to fuck up against. He let his shaft soak up all of Lance's messy handiwork with a groan, collecting and smudging lube everywhere. His bulbous cockhead caught on Lance's hole two or three times as he rutted breathlessly, ass flexing with each thrust he took into Lance's cleft. Each time, Lance made a newer, louder, angrier sound, trying to fuck his ass onto Keith's cock.

"Keith," Lance sobbed, half-muffled in their sheets. He sounded wrecked, brokenhearted somehow. "I need you."

"Shh, shh. I've got you. Hold still," Keith murmured, slowing his thrusting cock to swipe the sweaty fringe from Lance's forehead. "You're going to come on my cock real soon. Okay?"

"Yes," Lance panted into their sheets, trembling with relief.

"Arch your back for me, sweetheart." 

Lance complied with a needy whine, ass rising as his back's bow deepened. It dimpled up prettily, asscheeks stretched up towards Keith's cock.

"That's it," Keith praised, low and dirty. He slowly fed his cock into Lance's ass, inch by thick inch. "So beautiful ... Lance, _ah._  Fuck. You know just how to take it, don't you? Good and hungry for my thick cock?"

"Yeah," Lance moaned, out of his mind with pleasure. He was opening so beautifully for Keith's girthy cock. "I can be good. So good, Keith."

"So good for me," Keith agreed, short of breath.

He shoved all the way home, fucking in to the hilt, his balls slapping loudly against Lance's. It was absolute agony, withholding himself and his wild urge to fuck Lance's pretty ass open. But he did, forcing himself still after burying his cock inside of Lance's tight, warm heat balls-deep. It gave them a few precious seconds to catch their breath and adjust to the fit. 

Lance was nothing but velvet. Endlessly wet, slick velvet, constricting to the point of pleasure-pain. Keith closed his eyes. There was no feeling more heavenly. Every moment a reunion, a way to burn through each other and come awake gasping. To meet in the middle and wade through the bliss, the abandon, together. Lance's ass was strangling his cock. Keith felt peeled back, all his secrets unbosomed. All of Lance's made his. His head was a dazed swirl.

Beneath him, Lance began to squirm impatiently. Keith held tight to his hips as they tried to wriggle about to take Keith's cock deeper. Lance whined in complaint and Keith shushed him. He slid his palms up, mollifying, passing questing fingers past Lance's panting belly, feeling over his sensitive brown nipples, teased into tight little nubs, up his throat to briefly grasp him with one hand, with possessive brute. Lance made a desperate _mmmm yeah_ sound, like he _wanted_ to be possessed, claimed, held down and brought to heel under Keith's hands. 

Keith's breathing went broken. He let go of Lance's throat to pinch his nipples between his fingers, sliding his cock out jerkily a few inches. He caught sight of himself spearing halfway into Lance's beautiful ass and felt his stomach go liquid. His head spun.

"You want your nipples touched too? You like that ... ?" Keith whispered, rubbing them into hard little peaks.

"Oh," Lance whined, tilting his hips up higher, rim squeezing Keith's cock. _"Yes ..."_

Keith flicked them and slammed back inside of Lance, plunging his cock into the clutch of his tight ass.

Lance cried out, lurching forward from the momentum of Keith's thrust. His arms flew up haphazardly to catch himself against their headboard. He held himself braced against it, head hanging between his shoulders, as Keith started pistoning away in earnest, setting a merciless pace. He shoved his cock in and out of Lance's ass with animal grunts, watching his pale shaft disappear between Lance's brown asscheeks over and over again.

Air was harder to think about here. It burned on its way into the throat. Keith gulped it in like a drowned man, holding Lance's hips fast to yank his compact little body back onto his cock. 

Sweat beaded at his forehead, ran down the tendons of his throat, standing out and pulled taut with tension. Keith wanted badly to come. He wasn't prepared to last long. Not when he'd gone nearly a month without Lance's perfect, tight wet heat around his dick. He held off, though, closed his eyes to save himself a few crucial minutes, determined to draw this out, to make it good and long for Lance, who sounded suspiciously like he was having the best time of his life.

"Fuck," Keith moaned, hips bouncing off of Lance's ass. He forced his eyes open at the noise they were making, too aroused to resist pairing auditory input with visual input. Together, it was sensory overload, so intense it made Keith feel weak-kneed and light-headed. "Look so good around my cock. So fucking tight. So hot." 

"Uh! Uh! Uh!" Lance cried out, arms tensing.

Their headboard slammed against the wall in time with Lance's little noises. Wood rattled plaster with the ferocity of their fucking. _Slam. Slam. Slam._ Keith sent a silent apology to anyone within walking distance because there was no way they were going unheard. At the moment, he couldn't really find it in himself to care.

"Missed your sweet little ass so much," Keith panted, hunched over Lance's pliant body and thrusting hard.

 _"Fuck,"_ Lance moaned, knuckles white against their headboard. "Oh – fuck. Fuck me. Keith! Yes! Right there! _Ohh_ ... yeah! Right there!"

"Yeah?" Keith grunted, heartbeat bruising.

"Yeah," Lance moaned in answer. "Harder!" And Keith sped up agreeably, Lance's ass clapping louder against his cock. "Oh, god. _Yes!_  Fuck me. Fuuuck. Fuck me harder, baby!"

Keith panted loudly and surged forward in a lustful, growling frenzy, forcing himself on top of Lance. He pinned him flat, pressed all along Lance's sweaty back, and ground his aching cock into his snug little ass. A groan slid past his clenched teeth. He kneaded Lance's ass in tight circles, changing the shape and feel of him around Keith's throbbing cock. The pressure and squeeze was so mind-meltingly good it made a kaleidoscope of stars burst behind Keith's eyes, like tiny pinpricks of pleasure.

"So tight," he slurred into Lance's damp neck. "So fucking good."

Lance pushed back against Keith's heavy body, aiming a lust-blown look at Keith over his shoulder. He fucked his ass on Keith's cock, still ramrod straight inside of that tight ring of muscle. His soft ass slapped loudly against the cradle of Keith's groin. 

_"Ahh ..."_

Keith held Lance's waist with both hands, thrusting forward against Lance's tiny, controlled nudges backwards. He met his begging gaze unblinkingly. "You like that ... ?"

Lance bit his jutting lower lip, pouty and long-lashed. He nodded desperately. His pupils had swallowed the blue of his eyes almost totally.

"You like my cock?" Keith whispered, pressing in further and stirring his hips, deep and unforgiving. The full length of his cock, locked inside of Lance, slid tightly against his satin-slick walls, rubbing unrelentingly. "Like my cock deep inside of you? Buried in your perfect little ass?"

"Yessss," Lance moaned, head dropping back down. "Love your fat cock. Inside me. Always inside me. Please, Keith." 

"Yeah?" Keith challenged, rising up onto his knees behind Lance once more with effort. He pulled Lance up on all fours, forced his thighs wide open and pressed his chest to their mattress to urge Lance's ass higher. Then he took a handful of Lance's hair in hand, yanking his head back to expose his sweat-shiny throat. "Show me how much you love this cock, then."

"Oh, god," Lance whined.

"C'mon," Keith said, popping Lance lightly on the ass. "Fuck yourself on my cock."

Shakily, he propped himself up on his elbows, back arching. He tucked his face into his arm and began to hump his hips back against Keith's cock with sultry little bounces, sliding back on the long shaft. The noisy, wet way his ass swallowed Keith's cock and the _snap!_  that sounded each time his cheeks hit Keith's hips was loud and lewd. Lance moaned softly, asscheeks jiggling, and quickened his pace, desperately chasing his climax.

Keith groaned at the sight laid out before him. He slapped Lance's ass resoundingly, the sting biting, then squeezed the reddening cheek with a snarl. _"Fuck._ Yeah. Look at you."

"Gonna come," Lance gasped, fucking himself on Keith's cock faster. "Babyyy ... "

"Gonna come on my cock, Lance?" Keith asked, tight and breathless, as Lance's ass began to clamp down on his rigid cock.

"Yes, pleaseee ..." Lance pleaded.

"Good boy. Such a good boy," Keith said, closing a fist around Lance's weeping cock to give him something to fuck into. 

Keith began to meet Lance's shoves halfway, snapping his hips forward to jam his cock into Lance's tight ass. He steadied Lance around the hips, angled his ass higher and sought his prostate with single-minded focus. He knew when he'd found it because Lance gave a sweaty-faced shout, drowned out against their sheets and Keith's teeth-grinding growls, the wet slap of skin meeting skin. He massaged the bundle of nerves with his cockhead, withdrawing to hit it over and over again.

"Yes! Right there! Fuck me right there!" Lance wailed, asshole spasming around Keith's thick cock. "Oh – fuck! Keith. Keith. _Keith!_ Come inside me!"

Keith's chest rose and fell to the swift squeeze of his lungs. "Shit," he said through his teeth. "Close your mouth or I'll –"

Lance flexed his ass around Keith's cock, moaned out, "Want you dripping down my thighs. All plugged up with your come."

 _"Fuck,"_ Keith growled, forcing Lance's head down against the mattress.

He hammered into Lance's beautiful ass, wild, fraying, his thrusts unraveling at the seams. It was louder now, obscene, a wet squelch of skin slapping skin, their headboard ricocheting off the wall as Keith was forcibly flung over the edge. His orgasm rose up like a monsoon and dragged him down with it. He snarled and pumped Lance's pretty little ass full of come, fucking him through it, covering his cock with it. 

This seemed to set Lance off himself because he tightened up around Keith's pulsing cock to the point of pain and cried out, _"Ah, ah, ah,_ just like that!" Come spilled over Keith's knuckles as he pulled roughly at Lance's shaft. They were slick with it, absolutely filthy, drenched and dripping with come. The feel of it sent a second orgasmic wave after Keith, milking his cock dry one final time and spreading his warm seed inside of Lance's ass.

Lance collapsed into the mess they'd made together, arms and legs giving out at once. He made small, wounded noises into their ruined sheets. "Holy shit," he said into their mattress.

Keith flopped over on top of him, boneless. He was too sex-addled to remove his softening cock and his brain kept replaying that thing Lance had said about plugging him up. He made a mental note to revisit the idea at some point.

Dog-tired and feeling indescribably affectionate in the wake of his post-coital haze, Keith reached down and rubbed his fingers around Lance's inner thighs, feeling around for evidence of their fucking. His fingers met fluid; semen was leaking out of Lance's ass at a slow drip. When he felt the first dribble, sticky-white and turning tacky against Lance's brown skin, something possessively pleased shook him. He rode out the ensuing shudder with a quiet inhale.

"There I am," he murmured into Lance's skin, mouth closing over his neck in a worshipful kiss. "All mine."

Lance twitched, oversensitive. "All yours," he agreed, humming, as he reached backwards for Keith's hand. When he found it sticky with spunk, he slapped it away like he'd changed his mind, said, "Gross!"

"That is literally _in your ass right now,_ Lance."

"And my mouth later, if all goes according to plan."

"You little –" Keith growled, groping around for and squeezing Lance's flailing hand with his own as Lance giggled into their sheets. "You want a _mouthful_ of my come, but won't touch my hand because it's a bit sticky?”

"I'll hold your hand all you want if you clean me up," Lance murmured, grinning sleepily. "I can't feel my ass right now."

"You're definitely gonna feel it later. Preferably for the next week."

That earned him another slap to the arm.

 _"Ow,_ okay, okay," Keith muttered, pulling out of Lance with a twinge. 

He went off in search of towels and returned a minute later with an armload and a damp rag.

"You definitely didn't need to bring the entire bathroom with you," Lance said, gazing at Keith through amused eyes and the disheveled fall of his damp bangs. "I think you are severely overestimating the amount of come you shot up my ass."

"Shut up, I'm taking care of you," Keith said, flipping Lance over onto his back on their come-covered sheets and wiping him and his spent cock down with the rag.

"Mm, warm," Lance said happily, eyes drifting closed.

He smiled and gave Keith free rein over his body, allowing him his slow and tender clean-up. Keith directed him about with quiet orders of, "Turn over for me," or, "Give me your leg," sensed his fingers turning reverent as he felt Lance over and dragged the rag down his dewy body.

When it came time to strip their bed, however, Lance refused to budge. He was sleepy now, on the verge of one of his fucked-out sex naps and very adamant about not moving for the next century. 'Bottom privileges,' he called it. Keith didn't have the patience to argue, so he leaned down and wordlessly scooped him up into his arms, ignoring Lance's whine of protest. Keith threw him gently over his shoulder, chuckled when Lance griped, "Babe. Sooo unnecessary."

In reply, Keith gave Lance's raw ass a soft _pat pat._

Lance swatted at his hand. "Stop, I can feel it now and it's sore," he mumbled.

"Good," Keith murmured, his cock giving one last valiant twitch against his thigh.

He stripped their bed one-handed, tossing the soiled sheets in the general direction of their hamper. Then he shook a few towels out. He spread them in a mismatched quilt of color.

"You're twisted," Lance said, with perhaps too much delight, considering. 

"You're the one who begged for my dick," Keith said, as he carefully lowered Lance back to their bed, on top of Keith's homemade towel-quilt.

"Always," Lance sighed, tilting his face up as Keith dropped a soft, lingering kiss to his sublime mouth. 

"Thank you," he said earnestly, sliding in behind Lance and wrapping him up in a towel-y embrace. "That was by far the warmest welcome I've ever received after a mission."

Lance rolled his eyes, snaking a hand back to stroke at Keith's sweaty temple. "Well, there's plenty more where that came from, Mister."

Keith nosed at Lance's nape. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," Lance said, smirking. "Hope you saved some come for my –"

 _"Lance,"_ Keith groaned, rolling over to squish him into their mattress with a growl that set Lance giggling all over again. 

**Author's Note:**

> [sweetener.](https://genius.com/Ariana-grande-sweetener-lyrics)


End file.
